Jessie Marquez at the Jaqua Concert Hall, February 18th

 

A small but devoted crowd enjoyed Jessie Marquez and her band at the Jaqua concert hall on February 18th. Marquez warm voice filled the hall confidently as she shifted easily between Spanish and English, pausing before each song to explain its emotion or story.

Touring to support her new album "All I See Is Sky," with Clay Giberson on piano, Phil Baker on bass, Charlie Doggett on drums, Rafael Trujillo on percussion and Tim Wilcox on saxophone, the evening moved from Cuban, Brazilian, jazz and pop.

Everyone on stage was obviously enjoying themselves, and the evening had an easy, comfortable vibe. While the audience wasn't going to get up and dance to the sexy salsa and bassanova, the energy was definitely there. 

At a different venue the performance could have been much different -- people definitely could have been dancing. However, Marquez was still inviting and engaged as she introduced "Love Before Dawn," and later "The Wound," interpreting the Spanish lyrics as "Every time I talk to you, a wound opens in my heart. . ."

Many of the tracks opened up to allow the other musicians to play. Tim Wilcox's sax was authoritative and sinuous on the solid foundation laid by bass and percussion.

The evening ended too quickly, after about an hour and a half of music. Marquez bowed low, thanking the band with a broad smile as the audience gave her a standing ovation.

Shawn Colvin at the Jaqua Concert Hall

It was just Shawn Colvin and her guitar on stage at the Jaqua Concert Hall in the Shedd Institute on Thursday. She played an intimate, if short, show to a group of devoted fans who filled the old church pews and responded with enthusiastic applause and laughter to her easy mix of music and conversation.

"Flowing" is the best way to describe the show. I am not familiar with Colvin's music -- I went with a friend -- but I was quickly impressed by her ease on the stage and her confident transitions between songs the audience obviously loved and intimate bits of her recent life.

"It's been about a month since I played a show," she joked. "So I'm shy."

She described a barbecue she attended in Austin, where the men were outside cooking and the women inside making. . . "dip, or something," she quipped to knowing laughter. . . watching shirtless young men play tennis on television. At that moment, they began talking about a sense of ease, watching their partners through the window, realizing they had reached a comfortable place in their lives, even with temptation on the TV. She slid from that story into the slightly sad "These Four Walls."

A blue light reflected from the body of her guitar, splashing across the walls of the converted church chamber like a swimming pool's surface as she played. Toward the middle of the hour-long show, she paused a few minutes into "Polaroids" to confess she was always worried the song sounded like another, more famous song.

"It's only two chords," she said, her hands still playing the music effortlessly. She changed the rhythm slightly, and the song became "Put a Little Love in Your Heart," which she met with her voice as the audience smiled and chuckled. The transition became like a lesson in pop-music construction, however, as she segued from there to "Ebony and Ivory," "Like a Rolling Stone," "California Gurls" by Katy Perry ("It's just so catchy!" she confessed, grinning), "Just My Imagination" and finally "Forgiveness," with the audience singing along.

She left the stage for a brief moment as the audience clapped and stood, calling her back for a cover of Gnarls Barkley's "Crazy" that was introspective and layered, and finished with "These Old Walls."

Shawn said early in the hour that the music would get dark and then. . . darker. It did, but came back with tracks like "Shotgun Down the Avalanche" and "Backroad Tennessee."

As she left the stage, she received a standing ovation, and I heard several people immediately start talking about how great she had been. I was amazed by her presence, but definitely left wanting more.

Stars at the McDonald Theater, November 7, 2010

Stars played the McDonald theater Sunday night to a small but completely dedicated crowd that lovingly absorbed the band's synth-powered pop.


The band is known for its lush sound, storytelling songs and the sexy, very intimate interplay between dual lead singers Torquil Campbell and Amy Milan. Often a band with two lead vocalists leads you to prefer one over the other: with Stars, you can't wait for the two to start a conversation. Torquil's precise, nearly bombastic delivery provides a solid bed for Milan's breathy melodies.

The band's most recent album, The Five Ghosts, is a quiet, pulsing record that drives in spots but mostly creates an air of angsty reminiscence. Live, the songs take on a fresh danceability, powered by Evan Cranley's bass and the rich keyboards by Chris Seligman.


The crowd loved it. The McDonald had the chairs set up in the main theater floor, so a small number of people lounged at the back; everyone else was up front at the stage taking advantage of the room to dance.


The band opened with tracks from The Five Ghosts, including "Wasted Daylight," and then quickly pushed through highlights from Heart (including "The Elevator Song"), In Our Bedroom After the War, and a run of tracks from Set Yourself on Fire.

This was my first time seeing Stars live. I missed the show in 2009 at the WOW hall. Typically I prefer the sound at the WOW hall to the McDonald. . . for this band, even the McDonald's massive soundsystem couldn't seem to hold everything they wanted to project. The band members are also part of the collective Broken Social Scene, and many elements of the sound are similar, including the use of layered synthesizer, recorded clips and odd instruments like Melodica.

The band sounded great. If the instrumentation was slightly different, more danceable, live, the vocal delivery was spot on. So much so that slight variations from the recorded versions jumped out immediately. During an acoustic version of "Ageless Beauty," Milan moved effortlessly between parts of a refrain that I thought were overdubbed on the album. She simply raised her chin and shifted octaves, creating echoes of harmony in a solo performance.


There wasn't a lot of banter. At one point Milan shouted "I've seen a million rainbows in your city but then it always rains again, Eugene. What's up with that?"


Bassist Evan Cranley couldn't get enough of Voodoo Donut, and asked several times why the hell we'd want to eat bacon on pastries.

Toward the end of the show, Campbell and the rest of the band applauded Milan, who is pregnant and still touring. She looked pretty comfortable with a Les Paul up against her stomach most of the evening.


My friend commented that the show had the feel of an 80s reunion tour -- some band back from 1984 to relive their synthesizer hits. The music and crowd definitely fueled that vibe. The signature look in the audience was long shirt-dresses and tights, white suspenders and skinny jeans. 

If Stars' music didn't have the added depth of its storytelling, and the alluring interplay between Milan and Campbell, it could very well seem like a staged Mr. Mr. reunion. Maybe the performance was too practiced? Nah, I'm not going to complain about that. The musicianship was spot-on.


For me, the emotional center of the show was the several tracks from Set Yourself On Fire, the 2005 album that was my introduction to the band, with lyrics like those from "One More Night:"

Try as he might he's unable to speak
He grabs her by the hair, he strokes her on the cheek
The bed is unmade like everything is
Dark little heaven at the top of the stairs
Take me like that, ruin it all
Then build it again by the light in the hall
He drops to his knees says please my love, please
...When she's breaking his heart she still f***s like a tease


One more night. . . 

The band writes songs that are like scenes from unmade movies, each a distinct world in itself. 

When Amy Milan sang "This scar is a fleck on my porcelain skin," the audience erupted at the single line. Followed a moment later by Campbell admitting, "I'm not sorry I met you. I'm not sorry it's over. I'm not sorry there's nothing to save."

The band did a short intermission while President Dwight D. Eisenhauer warned about the military-industrial complex, then poured back onstage, sliding into "Celebration Guns," "I Died So I could Haunt You" and "Reunion." 


The only real downside to the show for me was the epileptic light show, which often had piercing yellow lights shining directly into the crowd for minutes at a time. There was also no encore. 

Twenty minutes after the intermission, the band finished "Changes" from Five Ghosts, a waltz-like crooner set to a heart beat, and Campbell abruptly announced "Good night!" 


The lights came up; the background music started and the show was over, like a movie leaving unanswered questions at the end. Still, at $14 a ticket in advance, this tour is a steal.


Walking past Voodoo Donuts a few minutes later, I wondered if the band got a donut kickback: the shop was packed at midnight.

Cowfish Grand Opening, 4-15-2010

 
Shawn Mediaclast and Brian Hebb have a hit on their hands with Cowfish. While the name draws quizzical looks, the clean, well-considered interior of this new lounge, dance club and dayside coffee shop has a lot to offer downtown.

The club, located at 62 W. Broadway, had its grand opening party last night. Unfortunately I couldn't get there soon enough to catch Mood Area 52, but at 1 a.m. a good crowd was still in attendance and the dance floor was full without being overly crowded. According to Mediaclast and Hebb, the club hit capacity twice during the night.

The first thing that stands out about Cowfish is how open and, comparatively, bright it is. The walls are a light blue that holds light. This is a club where people can see and be seen. While the light show still made things interesting, the music wasn't so loud or the room so dark that you couldn't hold a reasonable conversation and actually communicate. Stainless steel accents and the smooth concrete floor strike a good balance between the nakedness of an art space and the lighting you would expect at a dance club.

Attention to detail was everywhere, from the bathrooms to the bar and DJ station, which was spacious and should attract mixing talent.

The set I heard was the beat-focused amalgam of house-and-everything-else that made Mediaclast (aka the Audio Schizophrenic) famous at Snafu. While the dancers were definitely getting sweaty, there was plenty of room to showboat.

The space is separated by a single wall, hung with art, dividing the bar from the dance area. Low tables and chairs filled the front of the space near the windows, making it easy to get away from more crowded areas. Square, modern furniture make the space look comfortable without being over packed.

Cowfish will operate as a coffee shop from 7:30 a.m. to 5 p.m., with 16 ounce coffees to go for a buck. Free wi-fi and meeting spaces are available. The dance club will be open from Wednesday to Sunday. The gallery space is currently a diverse mix of work.

Spoon at the McDonald Theater, April 12, 2010

It's a great thing that the McDonald has a bar. As rumors floated through the venue that Spoon was playing a set at the Hult Center for the Conan O'Brian show, murmurs of "That's cool," turned into watch-checking as nearly an hour passed between opening band Explode into Colors and Spoon's arrival on stage.

With the sold out Conan show sapping some of what must be the band's core audience, it was still a good showing. The balcony was full and the floor full but not crowded. There was still plenty of room at the edges and stage to dance.

As we were waiting, the question came up: "Do people dance at Spoon shows?" This being my first, I couldn't say. However, the band's music does have a certain distance that wasn't helped by all the space in the McDonald. I wanted to be closer to the band -- the WOW Hall would be a perfect place to see this band, where the spare, clean sounds of the guitar, drum and keyboard wouldn't get as washed out by space.

To answer the conundrum: the crowd was definitely dancing. . . just reservedly so. While this may be the most photographed show I've ever been to, with cell phones waving like lighters, the mixed crowd was definitely moving to Spoon's sexy rock.

Two songs in, lead singer Britt Daniel admitted, "So we played a song at the Conan show. Anybody come over from the Conan show?" He kept pronouncing "Conan" as Ko-nan. A slight cheer went up in the audience.

Banter was at a minimum, though, as the band powered through the set. They played a Damned cover, followed by Who Makes Your Money, Song in Reverse and Cherry Bomb. The dancing really kicked up when the bass groove to Don't You Evah rolled in.

The line-up was standard with the addition of Michael Lerner of Telekinesis on percussion: Daniel on guitar and vocals, Jim Eno on drums, Rob Pope on bass, and Eric Harvey on keyboard.



Overall, the delivery was sharp and the band never missed a beat. Despite the messy production on their latest album Transference, the performance moved quickly through the main set, and then two short encores that were more pauses with the lights down.

Before leaving the stage the first time, Daniels remarked "Like fifteen hundred people just want to hear Camera On."

Their most famous song was the last one Spoon played. The sinuous vibe of Camera On's bass groove didn't feel quite right in such a large venue. I wanted something messier; but the crowd was pleased. People waved plastic spoons and cheered as the lights went down a final time.

I'll be holding out for the WOW Hall show at some point in the future.

Devil Makes Three with Mad Cow String Band and Bad-Mitten Orchestre, March 25, 2010

Devil Makes Three played the first of two Eugene shows Thursday night, opened by Eugene's Bad-Mitten Orchestre and the Mad Cow String Band out of Davis, California. The show was the first of two at the WOW Hall, both Thursday and Friday night, part of a new tour the band can call "international:" this time they're heading into Canada.

It's exciting to read about the response DM3 has been getting across the country as new audiences open to their punk-like brand of folk and bluegrass. While their studio albums maintain a stately, timeless excellence that showcases musicianship and tightly woven harmonies, the band's live show is a different animal entirely. It's like grandma hit the moonshine and decided to show the youngsters how it's done.

I was lucky enough to catch the DM3 at the WOW Hall back in May last year. Comparing the two shows makes it easy to see how an audience can make a performance. While the band played most of the same material with the same energy and you-gotta-dance-osity, the crowd was just more reserved this time around than I was expecting.

The May, 2009 show at the WOW Hall was opened by Hillstomp, and the audience quickly got half-naked, sweaty, and a whole lotta crowd surfing took place. Thursday's show, started off by the rambunctious folk of the Bad-Mitten Orchestre, never quite exploded. I was reminded, overall, of a show at the Axe and Fiddle, where folks want to cut loose but are afraid they might break something.

(Left to right: Ian Haight, drums. Naima Muntal, banjo, vocals. Ila Kreigh, guitar, vocals.)

The Bad-Mitten Orchestre certainly provided he fuel for some dancing. The band played a mix of folk standards and a few originals.

(Right to left: Jessica Kieras, fiddle, vocals. Andy Kuss, bass, vocals. )

When Devil Makes Three took the stage, Pete Bernhard smiled. "So we'll be playing two shows here this week," he said. "Which is kind of new for us. But we'll give it a shot." The band didn't banter much beyond that, offering small introductions to each song and keeping the focus on a continuous flow of folk-bluegrass they've been evangelizing country-wide.

(Right to left: Lucia Turino, bass. Pete Bernhard, guitar. Cooper McBean, guitar.)

As other writers have mentioned, DM3 audiences are as varied as the band's influences.

A guy outside the WOW Hall told me he wished the band had a drummer, saying: "Sometimes you need some percussion, you know?"

I started to explain how the instruments work together to provide the same rhythms but stopped when he asked me how much longer I thought the show would last. I told him I hoped it lasted another hour, and got back inside because it was going by too fast.

The band came back for a single encore after pausing to grab water. Pete, Lucia and Conner looked like they had a great time, but the audience quickly emptied the WOW Hall. Maybe the promise of another show Friday sapped some of the energy from this one, or last year's performance was a once in a lifetime.

Mason Williams and Friends Holiday Show at the Hult Center

Mason Williams has always been adept at poking fun at our insecurities, and when laryngitis threatened his voice during this year’s Holiday Show at the Hult Center, he immediately turned the lens on himself and let the audience know he was going to sing in a falsetto or like Darth Vader.

“What do they say in show business?” he asked. “Emphasize your faults. Well, that’s what I’m going to do. The lows are going to sound pretty good this evening.”

Despite difficulty in Mason’s singing range, the show more than filled in the gaps with a broad range of holiday music in jazz, classical, pop and even hip-hop that was sung, played and performed as spoken-word, all organized with the playful humor and tight musicianship for which Williams is famous.

The Eugene Concert Choir opened the show with “Do You Hear What I Hear?” in a pop arrangement whose upbeat chords set the stage for the playful songs to come.

After a bit of banter between Williams and conductor Diane Retallack, who played good-hearted but nerdy straight(wo)man to Mason’s jokes,  the Mason Williams and Friends band, backed by the Eugene Mozart Players orchestra, played a few short pieces that featured Don Latarski on banjo and then solo on jazz guitar with “Bring a Torch, Jeanette, Isabella.” Latarski’s signature cascade of notes filled the Silva Concert Hall as the melody emerged from his jazz chord shapes. (Don was rocking a mop of hair that he kept flicking out of his face with a chin jerk as he played.) Also featured in Mason’s band were Art Maddox on piano, Jeff Homan on flute and saxophone, Mark Schneider on upright bass, and Dennis Caffey on drums.

“At some point tonight we’ll have on stage over two hundred and fifty musicians and one drummer,” Williams quipped, glancing back at Caffey -- who provided a rimshot.

The show really picked up energy when the South Eugene High School Concert Choir filed on stage. Augmented with students from Churchill, the more than fifty student strong choir powered through selections from Vivaldi’s Gloria and filled the concert hall with a full sound buoyed by many talented individual voices.

After the Young Mens Ensemble filed out in front of the orchestra to lead a sing-along of "Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer" in plastic antlers and red clown noses, Mason remarked, “Since it’s rutting season, you young men should use your antlers the manly way. But be careful – there are cougars out there. Cougars who like to eat young men.”

The audience paused for a second, processing what he had said. Then naughty laughter filled the theater.

As they pulled off their antlers and noses, the ensemble singers turned their backs to the audience and began a choral arrangement of “Jingle Bells” in acapella that was dirge-like in its somber pace. However, the barely contained smiles on the singer’s faces gave away the course of the arrangement, as a falsetto voice rose over the low tones, and then the singers were abruptly backing up as one member beat-boxed and another rapped “Night Before Christmas” with a fervor reminiscent of Weezer’s “Sweater Song.” Mugging for the audience as they performed, the ensemble ended to loud cheers. I never heard a false note in the whole performance; the individual voices were strong and confident.

As the Young Mens Ensemble folded back into the Concert Choir, the space before the orchestra was filled by the Eugene Vocal Arts Ensemble dressed in period Renaissance costumes and smiling like they shared an inside joke. The multi-colored costumes shined under the lights as the group launched into a round of  “I Saw Three Ships,” an English carol with the rhythm of an Irish jig, followed by “The Twelve Days of Christmas,” which featured solos by Jill Gillette, Brent Anderson, Susan Abraham and Alex Reid.

“So, uh, do you make all your costumes?” Mason asked as their set ended.

Diane sounded surprised by the question. She said, “Well, no. We’re lucky to have a wonderful seamstress who makes them for us.”
“Oh,” Mason said. His eyes crinkled in a slight grin.

After a twenty minute intermission, the theater darkened to a vocal skit where Elvis phoned in from heaven to let everyone know he was enjoying eating his way through the holidays. He encouraged everyone to lend a helping hand, and then asked if we could “Hand him another helping of those mashed potatoes. Yeah. Thank you very much.”

As Elvis’ voice faded away, Mason introduced what is now a classic skit he produced for the Smothers Brothers’ Show, which features over 1500 hundred pieces of art in under three minutes, set to his most famous song “Classical Gas.”

“I made this in 1968,” Mason said. “It seems like such a long time ago.” Then he added, “It was.”

The arrangement of “Classical Gas” began with Masons’ guitar and filled out gradually with the orchestra, driven by jangling tambourines recalling sleigh bells.

Following “Classical Gas,” Mason introduced the next song as “The reason we all know the word ‘tintinnabulation’ from junior high school.” Then he said, “You know if Edgar Allen Poe had written ‘Classical Gas’ it would have been called ‘Classical Gasp.’” And the audience groaned appreciatively.

Of the thirty-two songs played during the show, Springfield pianist and composer Art Maddox arranged twenty of them. His collaboration with Williams on Poe’s “The Bells” had all the playfulness, musical complexity and upbeat mood that reflected throughout the show. The assembled choirs and musicians smiled as they performed, and the only thing that remained of Poe’s classic funereal poem were the tongue-twisting words.

After a falsetto rendition of the Platters’ “My Prayer” sung by Mason and backed by his band in full Big Bopper swing, with bright sax highlights by Jeff Homan, the evening closed with a skit making fun of the Twilight series, and then three songs that reveled in the huge sound of the combined choirs, orchestra and band. The Vocal Arts Ensemble re-emerged in black dresses and tuxedoes, and the show closed with a straight ahead jazz rendition of “Jingle Bells,” followed by “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” and “This Very Merry Christmas” by Gary U.S. Bonds.

Mason looked pleased with himself, his voice actually stronger by the end of the show, as he reminded the audience about CDs in the lobby.

“We’ll be around to sign them, if anybody’s interested,” he said dryly. Even world-famous musicians have to hustle a little bit. Williams looked satisfied and pleased to do it.